


Falling Is Like That

by Eustacia Vye (eustaciavye)



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-04
Updated: 2012-01-09
Packaged: 2017-10-28 21:18:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/312278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eustaciavye/pseuds/Eustacia%20Vye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Somehow, everyone sees what's happening between Arthur and Ariadne before they do. But then, sometimes falling is like that.</p><p> </p><p>For prompt <a href="http://inception-kink.livejournal.com/17947.html?thread=39199003#t39199003">After breaking up with her live-in boyfriend (partially because she's so secretive about her job, he constantly sees her with Eames or Arthur and won't explain who they are, etc.), Ariadne shows up at Arthur's door asking him to let her stay.</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. When In Trouble

"You never tell me where you're going," Keith began, jaw tight with anger and his entire posture strung with tension. "There are those men you won't tell me about and you don't have any kind of office I can visit. You disappear for days at a time! What the hell is going on?!"

Ariadne wanted to wring his neck for bringing this up now. She had just returned from meeting with Arthur and Eames about the latest job, and she couldn't exactly discuss it with Keith. She was tired and cranky since the design wasn't holding up right, and she would have to do some massive changes to the layout when she returned to the rented office suite in the morning. She wasn't looking forward to that at all.

Keith normally didn't start arguments like this when she got home from work. It generally started when he wanted to go out and she had to remain behind. Or if she disappeared last minute because she saw someone that looked like the subject and didn't want to be seen. They had met after the Fischer job when she had started an internship at a design firm. Her hours had been erratic but it had allowed her to continue helping out in dream share, which is where she ultimately wanted to work. Neither of her coworkers told her not to try to have a regular life, though Arthur had warned that it would be difficult to do while keeping any boyfriend in the dark. She hadn't wanted to lie to Keith, but he never would have understood her need to work in dream share. It was illegal and dangerous, and it was safer to simply let him think she was continuing to work in the same design firm she had started in nearly two years ago. He was kind and understood her love of design and art. He had been a MFA candidate when they had met, after all. He knew what it was like to be consumed by work even if the rest of the world wouldn't necessarily appreciate it.

To be perfectly honest, she was starting to forget what his other appealing qualities might have been, since they were arguing all the time. She had moved in with him more out of guilt than a genuine desire to live with him, and she was sorely regretting that decision.

"Can't you even answer me?" Keith demanded. "Don't I deserve even that much?"

"There are things I just can't tell you," Ariadne began. "Nondisclosure agreements..."

"Oh, bullshit. You disappear, Ariadne. It's like sometimes you just don't exist, or I don't matter to you anymore."

"That's not true..."

Keith snorted and shook his head, but it was an expression that looked sour and twisted his features. "No? Then what's in your bag?" he demanded, reaching for it. "What project is so important that you don't come home until the middle of the night looking exhausted, and you're creeping around the city with strange men you won't introduce to me?"

Ariadne danced out of his grasp and nearly reached for a gun that wasn't under her shirt. Her hands stopped at the last moment, and it was with dawning horror that she realized she had been intending to threaten her boyfriend with bodily harm if he didn't stop pushing. This wasn't anything healthy, and certainly nothing she should continue.

"Do you even give a shit about this relationship anymore?" Keith demanded, hands tightening into fists when she didn't immediately answer. "Do you?"

"Keith, don't do this," Ariadne said, shaking her head. "This isn't like that. It's just a project I'm not allowed to talk about. Those were my coworkers, and I'm not allowed to talk about any of it. That's all. There's nothing else to it."

"Are you fucking them? Is that it?" He continued despite the shock and outrage on her face. "Is that why you won't sleep with me? Is that why you don't come home at night sometimes? You're out with them?"

"You can't be serious," Ariadne gasped, eyes growing round as saucers. Okay, she slept with Arthur and Eames, but that was via PASIV. There was nothing sexual going on other than the occasional innuendo, but that was par for the course. "I'm not cheating on you, Keith!" She threw up her hands in dismay. "I work ridiculous hours! You've always known that!"

"You're not an intern anymore! There's no reason for this!"

"I'm an architect! It's not some glamorous nine to five job. _You're_ my boyfriend. _You're_ the one I come home to."

"Assuming you even come home," Keith said bitterly, shaking his head. "This isn't going to work, Ariadne. I love you, I do. But I don't trust you anymore, and I can't live like this."

Ariadne gaped at him. "What are you saying?"

"You need to move out," he said quietly. "Preferably sooner rather than later."

She couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Keith..."

"I can't do this anymore, Ariadne. You need to move out."

Her mouth opened and closed, but he didn't waver in his resolve. He had to have been going over this decision in his head for months before he even approached her with it, and she had never even seen the signs. Her mind couldn't quite grasp that concept, and kept sticking on the goofy expression that had been on his face when he asked her to move in with him over a year ago. He had loved her then. She loved him, too, otherwise she never would have moved in with him. She had thought their relationship would outlast the secrets she had to live with.

Apparently, she was wrong.

"I-I'll leave then," Ariadne stammered, still not grasping what he was saying. She grabbed her bag with her drawings and notes. She didn't know where she would go this time of night, and even Keith suddenly looked worried. "I won't bother you anymore."

She fled his apartment, not looking back.

The thing of it was, she had only left Paris to be with him. He had a tiny flat in the outskirts of London and was working as an assistant in an art gallery. He hadn't been able to sell any of his work so far, and it had made sense to consolidate homes. They couldn't simply cross the Channel back and forth all the time.

Eames was somewhere in London. He had said which hotel he was staying in, but she couldn't recall the name of it in her current state of mind. She knew Arthur had a place in Kensington, some posh address that was very secure and without nosy neighbors.

She wondered what it meant that she went directly to Arthur's townhouse and knocked on his door. He opened it, concern etched on his features. "Ariadne? Are you all right?"

"I don't have anywhere else to go."

He of course let her in, and somehow the argument from the evening tumbled out of her in fits and starts. There was still that element of numb shock, and Ariadne was sure that she was making a mess of things. She hadn't even given any thought if Arthur had been doing anything when she arrived, or if he was living with someone himself. But he made no indication that she was bothering him, and his arm around her shoulders gave her more comfort than she thought it would.

"No decisions tonight," he told her. His tone was reassuring as it always was, and that did more to calm her down than she expected. "You can crash here, and then we'll figure out what to do next when we're not too exhausted."

"Thank you," Ariadne told him gratefully.

Arthur squeezed her hand in support. "What else are friends for?"

***

Over the next few days, Ariadne somehow was moved into one of the spare rooms on the first floor of Arthur's townhouse. Eames offered to punch Keith or have him arrested and thrown into jail, but Ariadne nixed those ideas. "You can't make someone love you and you can't make someone overlook the lies you've been telling them," she said sourly, frowning at the drink in front of her. She had just packed the last of her belongings from Keith's apartment, and had deliberately told Arthur and Eames not to help her. Keith was suspicious of them both enough already. There was no need to make things worse.

"Well, you _can..."_ Eames began with a smirk. A sharp look from Arthur stopped him, and he finished off his whiskey sour. "Listen. Think of it this way. Now you don't have to lie about what you're doing for jobs. Can't get around the love part much in this line of work, unless you're the type to drown your sorrows."

Ariadne frowned at Eames and Arthur, feeling terrible. "That's just the thing, though. Shouldn't I be more upset that this is over? Shouldn't I care that he kicked me out? I mean, I _do,_ and I'm angry about how he did it. But the biggest thing I feel right now is relief. Does that mean I didn't love him enough to make it work?"

Eames sighed and patted her arm gently. "He wasn't the one, then." He gave her a shrug and signaled the bartender to come back. It had been his idea to head to a pub afterward, rather than let Ariadne sit amongst labeled boxes in one of Arthur's spare rooms. "Someday, Ariadne, you'll meet someone that you don't think you can live without. I hope you can be honest, but it's better to be realistic about this. Ours is not a safe profession. It's why most of us are bachelors." He ordered another drink but Ariadne passed on hers. "Quick, meaningless fucks are one thing. Needs are needs, and it's best to get them met in a way that doesn't screw up a job. It's too difficult to be in a long term relationship."

"Cobb did it."

"Mal was an extractor," Arthur said quietly. "He was the architect. They both knew the risks."

Ariadne sighed. "So either I hook up within the business or stay single forever."

"There are worse fates, you know," Arthur said with a shrug.

"Student loans sucking you dry when you make a pittance, for one thing," Eames said with a grin. "Think we can fuck with his interest rate? Add a year or two to the loan?"

Smacking his arm, Ariadne couldn't help but laugh. "Don't do that. I don't hate him."

"You could. Maybe you should," Eames declared.

"I think the worst of it is disappointment. That we couldn't talk about it before it got to this point." She sipped at her drink and sighed. "But I'm just as guilty as he is in that situation. I didn't talk to him either. I just let things happen. I didn't love him, not really, not how it counted. Not if I don't feel more than this."

"There are different kinds of love," Arthur told her quietly. "It doesn't have to be blinding passion like in the movies."

"Fun," Eames commented with a quirky smile. "But ultimately, it burns out quick. Hopefully you don't get burned up with it."

"That's very deep," Ariadne commented.

"Fortune cookie," he declared in grave tones. Then he smiled, making her laugh. No doubt that had been his intention all along, since he liked to downplay his intelligence. He bumped her shoulder playfully. "You'll be all right, yeah? You got us looking after you."

"Thank you." She pressed kisses to both their cheeks, then laughed at the lip prints on Arthur's cheek. "It's a good color on you."

"Arthur in drag? That might be good to see," Eames taunted.

"Professionalism, Mr. Eames," Arthur began in a threatening tone, lifting his glass.

"Is entirely lost on me if we're not in a professional situation," Eames replied, drinking half of the whiskey in one gulp. He grinned in the face of Arthur's disgruntled expression. "Sure you'd rather not stay with me, darling?" he asked Ariadne. "My hotel room has a king size bed."

"Who are you sharing it with at the moment?" she asked in arch tones.

"Haven't the foggiest what his name is, but he does this trick with his tongue..." Eames began with an unrepentant grin. At her squeak of protest, Eames laughed. "What? No threesome fantasies to get back at Mr. Humdrum And Normal?"

"No, can't say I've had those."

"Perhaps you need a little more imagination," Eames teased, finishing off his drink. "Stay with this stick in the mud and you'll be woefully inhibited in no time."

"Different kind of imagination," Arthur intoned. "I generally don't apply mine to pornographic situations."

"Terrible waste." He grinned at them. "Well, I'm off. Same time tomorrow, then?"

"I have most of the layout complete, so we can go in on a test run and see if there are any parts that need some ironing out," Ariadne said with a nod. "Thanks for hanging out with me."

Eames gave her a fond smile. "There are very few in the business I would spend time with outside of jobs. You are one of the very privileged few." He leaned in and kissed her forehead. "Don't stay up too late, Ariadne. Though with Arthur around, you will probably get a good night's sleep." He grinned at the both of them. "See you in a few hours."

Arthur waited a few minutes after he left. "He's right, actually. We should head back to the townhouse and get some sleep."

Ariadne laughed and nodded. "I'm more than ready to head to bed. I'm sure he thinks I'm a stick in the mud, too." Arthur laughed and they headed out of the pub. "At least I'm in good company, right?"

"There is that," Arthur agreed with a smile. Nothing more needed to be said after that.

***

There was a guest room on the second floor of Arthur's townhouse that was next to the bathroom. The room on the ground floor was smaller and the bathroom closest to it didn't have a shower or tub. "Do you mind if I move some things up into the bathroom? It should make things easier in the mornings," Ariadne said as she buttered a piece of toast for breakfast. The extraction was going to be a simple one level job in two days, and she wasn't needed to watch over them. "I won't bump into you dressed in only towels anymore," she said with a smile.

"Pity," Arthur replied with a grin, pouring himself coffee. "I guess you could do that. I haven't really done anything with the room," he said with a shrug. "I won't be coming straight back here after the job. I have some people I need to meet, and we'll see what happens after that regarding jobs. The utilities are automatically paid, so you won't have to worry about that while you're here. Don't feel like you have to be in a rush to figure out what you need to do next."

"Thanks," she said gratefully. She didn't know what she would do without him and didn't even want to try. "Will Eames go with you to wherever it is you're going?"

Arthur shook his head after his sip of coffee. "Once the job is done, he's off to wherever he wants to go. He might head back to Mombasa, though. He mentioned yesterday he had forgotten how much he hates the English weather."

Ariadne laughed. "So he isn't very fond of rain?"

"Not particularly, no," he replied as he laughed along with her. "Nearly two weeks solid is pushing it for me, too. I'll be glad to head to Sicily for a while. It should be nice and warm."

"I got an e-mail from Cobb," she said, picking up her piece of toast. "He and the kids are doing well. He thinks if I'm really going to stay in dream share, I should stick with you or talk to someone named Lambert," she told him before biting into her toast.

Arthur snorted. "Lambert's an extractor, and not as good as Cobb was. I wouldn't say it's a bad idea, exactly, but he's failed enough extractions that none of the bigger players will deal with him. It would keep you busy and give you something to do, not much more than that."

She polished off her toast. "I suppose I could redecorate your townhouse," she teased. "There's so much beige and not much personality."

"I didn't change anything in it when I bought it. This is a place to stay in between jobs if I'm able to, nothing more," Arthur replied, putting his coffee cup in the sink. "I've got another two places like this, but it really all depends on how dangerous it is to get there."

"Should I be doing something similar?" Ariadne asked in concern. It wasn't quite alarm, as she had been fairly well protected by Arthur and Eames so far. It was as if they felt personally responsible for her involvement in dream share, and were taking extra precautions to keep her out of the line of fire.

"You should be fine. Most architects don't get as involved in the actual jobs, so they aren't as well known as the point or extractor jobs. It's my job to make sure the rest of you stay safe, after all." He flashed Ariadne a grin. "Ready to go?"

Ariadne nodded. "Do I get to use your car while you're away, too?" she teased, taking the proffered car keys he handed to her.

Arthur laughed. "Just don't crash it, okay? You're not on my insurance and the rates will skyrocket."

Just to make Arthur nervous, Ariadne refused to make any promises as she drove him to the airport. She did take pity on him and promise to be a model driver while he was away as he walked away from the gate. They waved, and Ariadne headed back to his townhouse to start moving into his guest room.

***

By the time Arthur returned to his townhouse three weeks later, Ariadne was comfortably settled in the guest room. Her clothes were unpacked in the closet and dressers, her books neatly piled in a bookcase she had bought to fit the remaining wall space. She had a little basket of her bathroom supplies on the counter in the upstairs bathroom, as well as a shower caddy on the floor beside the tub. "You have way too many bathroom products, you know that?" she teased when she picked him up at the airport.

Arthur merely laughed in response to that. "It takes work to look this good, you know. Maybe I'll teach you how to use more product. Then you can stop complaining about curls and flyaway strands during the day."

"You are in a ridiculously good mood," Ariadne observed.

"The job went well, my follow up plans all fell into place." Arthur leaned back in the passenger seat and smiled. "It's good when things work out."

"In that case, I could use some of your excellent mojo. I've looked at a few apartments but they either are in horrible places or I can't stand the thought of living with those neighbors. I suppose I could always go back to Paris or try someplace completely new, but I've gotten used to London. I kind of like it here."

"I like it here," Arthur agreed. "It's a large enough city to get lost in if you need to, there are plenty of major conveniences and activities, but it isn't so overwhelming either. I've lived in New York City for a long time, and the energy there is completely different."

"I don't know... Sometimes you absolutely strike me as a New York City kind of person."

"On the job, I suppose?"

"Definitely then. I wouldn't want to cross you or get on your bad side at that point," Ariadne said with a teasing smile. She pulled up in front of the townhouse and parked in his usual spot. "The place is spotless, of course," she told him as he got his bag and they went inside.

"You're easily the best house guest I've ever had," Arthur told her in appreciation. "Eames had to stay with me for a few weeks once a few years back. It might have been deliberate, but it took me days to clean up after him. Cobb was here a few times, and he cleaned up after himself but that was about it."

"Well, _I'm_ grateful for the place to stay." Ariadne grinned. "There's even food in the fridge in case you're hungry."

"Just something light," Arthur said as he put his bag down in the living room. He'd bring it up to his room later and sort the laundry items from the dry cleaning. "My internal clock is still a mess, so I'd be expecting breakfast instead of a snack."

"Cinnamon bread? I got some from the market yesterday."

He grinned as they got into the kitchen. "Sounds good." He saw the newspaper on the table, some things circled and others X'd out in red. "So this is the list?" He looked it over as Ariadne started getting the bread out of the breadbox. "I'm assuming you would want to stay close to Kensington or Chelsea, right? Better security in these areas."

"Somehow, if I could find a place as nice as this one for relatively cheap..."

Arthur snorted and perused the rest of the ads. "You'd want to look in Mayfair, Soho, Marylebone, Notting Hill, Knightsbridge or Sloane Square. None of those neighborhoods are cheap, and you really don't want to skimp on security." He accepted the bread and started nibbling on it, ignoring the crumbs falling to his shirt. "Some of these apartments are overpriced, even for the neighborhood. There are others close by that should be almost as good and suit your needs." He looked up at her after a moment. "If you keep working high profile jobs, you _can_ afford the posh neighborhoods, you know."

Ariadne couldn't help but smile ruefully. "Some part of me keeps thinking I'm not so far out of school that I should tempt fate that way."

"It fades quickly, trust me. You want a place safe enough to store your PASIV and weapons without anyone looking twice."

"I'll take your word for it," she replied with a smile. She kept the loaf on the table and sat down beside him. "So, let's look at what's available for viewing."

***

There was something wrong with every possibility on the list. If it wasn't something that Ariadne found wanting, Arthur felt security was lacking or could not be installed after the fact to his specifications. They sat on his sofa with beers in hand and clinked them in amusement. "Looks like I'm stuck here for the moment," Ariadne told him. "I don't want you to feel like I'm abusing your hospitality."

"I'd let you know if you were," he assured her with a smile. "Like I've said a hundred times by now, I've had worse house guests."

It was approaching two months that she had lived in his townhouse with him. She was a late enough sleeper that their showers didn't coincide even though they both liked to take showers early in the morning. He generally spent time brushing his hair and putting in the styling products to get it slicked back and even. Otherwise there was a wild wave to it, which she had been amused to see the first time they had crashed into each other in the bathroom. Ariadne tended to wash and scrub quickly in the shower, and was out and wrapped in a towel while Arthur was still putting the pomade in place. He moved over in front of the large mirror so that she could pull her brush through her hair, but she otherwise didn't do much with it. Ariadne tended to put on makeup after she was dressed, and even then she tended to stick to powder foundation, mascara and a light gloss on her lips. Arthur was usually finishing up with his hair by the time Ariadne had picked out her clothes for the day in her room, which was on the other side of the bathroom they shared.

Ariadne made sure to expend the extra effort not to tease him about the excessive amount of time he spent in front of the mirror in the mornings. He at least didn't disappear during the day to touch up anything.

Just to be annoying one evening, however, she mussed his hair and then made a big show of pulling a face at the sticky residue coating her palm. "Oh, icky, Arthur."

He was trying to smooth his hair back into place, frowning at her. "You know how long it takes me to get that done in the mornings!"

"Yes, you spend more time in the bathroom than I do!"

Arthur took a swig of his beer. "Yes, but then it stays put all day. You complain about flyaways getting into your eyes or mouth whenever the wind blows."

"The price I pay for long hair," Ariadne reasoned.

"Tell you what. If you spend maybe five more minutes in the bathroom, I'll bet you won't complain about that anymore."

"Oh come on," Ariadne scoffed, taking a drink of her beer. "No way."

Arthur was warming to the topic, however, and Ariadne was starting to think that perhaps he had been waiting for just this opportunity to say something to her. "Some hair serum will get everything to lie flat. You won't even have to straighten it if you don't want to, though it shouldn't be that hard with a flat iron."

Ariadne blinked at Arthur, stunned. "You know way too much about hair," she said finally, not sure what else to say.

"Three older sisters," he said solemnly. "If you think _I_ spend too long in the bathroom, you should've grown up with _them."_

She waited a beat before breaking out into laughter, and Arthur actually smiled. "Fine, fine. We'll do this experiment." She narrowed her eyes at Arthur. "I bet it doesn't work."

He arched an eyebrow at her. "Do you now? And what if you lose that bet?"

Ariadne had to think of something she could offer. "Um... Total kitchen duty for a month instead of switching off."

Arthur pondered that one for a moment. "You do cook better than I do..."

Warming to the concept, she grinned at him. "And if you lose, you're doing all the laundry."

"I do most of it already!"

"Dry cleaning doesn't count! I'm talking about using the actual washer and dryer." Ariadne didn't own too many dry clean only clothes, so usually she was the one in the basement doing the laundry. She had never particularly liked that chore, but it was a necessity she put up with. "Well? Have we got a deal?"

Arthur smiled. "Deal."

They shook on it and finished their beers in companionable silence, settling in to watch a programme on BBC One.

***

Ariadne really should have known better than to make a bet against Arthur. Of course she lost.

It only took a minute or two to smooth the hair serum over the wet strands when she was out of the shower. That made it easier for Ariadne to brush out her hair, and it tended to lie flatter and straighter throughout the day. She didn't have the patience to use the flat iron that Arthur bought her with a straight face, but she did have to admit that the one time she tried it she managed not to burn her hair and it was perfectly flat. Arthur at least wasn't a sore winner, as Ariadne had no doubt Eames would be. He simply smiled when she conceded defeat and asked for something fairly simple to make for dinner.

She popped in a jazz CD she particularly liked as she went through the kitchen gathering up ingredients to start dinner. She sang along to Nina Simone, aware of Arthur hanging around in the doorway watching her in amusement. "You can't sing," he said finally.

"So? I still like this song."

He shook his head in amusement. "You have no sense of timing and you're off key."

"Yes, but it's the spirit that counts," she declared loftily. "Anyway, you get to choose the music and entertainment options when _you_ do the cooking."

"That won't be for another month," Arthur complained, lips drawing into a frown.

"Well, you could let me out of the payout..."

"Not a chance."

"Then it's you, me and me singing Nina Simone," Ariadne told him with a grin. And just for that, she turned up the volume both on the CD player and her singing. Arthur couldn't leave the kitchen fast enough.

***  
***


	2. Deepening Friendships

A few weeks later, Arthur found Ariadne in the basement on his treadmill. With the rainy weather outside, he wasn't terribly surprised. He _was_ surprised by the dance music she was listening to. He knew she tended to listen to jazz and singer-songwriter types of musicians, so the heavy bass line and announcements for the Ministry of Sound were new. "Hey. I didn't know you liked this kind of thing."

Ariadne made a face. "It's more of a better beat to move to. I started..." She made a vague waving motion with her hand. "You know." At his blank look, she sighed. "Keith." She continued jogging. "He listened to this when painting, and it helped keep me moving when I'd rather stop."

Arthur actually laughed. "Whatever works for you."

"Why? What do you listen to?"

"Rock and metal," Arthur admitted. He looked affronted at her disbelieving look. "Hey. It's got a rhythm to move to, and it's great for getting aggression out."

Laughing, Ariadne continued jogging. "Did you need me to stop?" she asked, a hopeful note in her voice.

He shook his head at her. "Sorry, no. Just wanted to see what you were doing."

Ariadne wasn't sure if he wanted her out or not, despite all his protests to the contrary. "Lonely?"

Arthur shrugged, which she took to mean he didn't want to admit she had guessed correctly. "Too busy?"

"I'm just running. I can always stop."

After a moment, Arthur nodded. "Yeah. Not much going on at the moment."

Welcoming the excuse, Ariadne grinned and slowed down. She stopped and drank water. "So... Should we go do something?"

Arthur grinned at her. "If you don't mind."

They went to an art gallery, and Ariadne found herself comparing the art for sale with Keith's work. "You're thinking pretty hard," Arthur commented.

"I'm thinking there's a reason why Keith's work never sold," Ariadne admitted ruefully.

Arthur chuckled. "Well, no one wanted to say anything while you were dating him..."

"Oh, Eames told me all the time he was a talentless hack," Ariadne protested.

"Yes, but he says worse now."

Ariadne laughed, which garnered a bit of attention from other patrons. One woman looked at Arthur in longing then at Ariadne in unbridled jealousy. It was startling to see and realize that other people thought of them as _together._ They were just friends, after all. She didn't think of Arthur in a romantic sense despite that kiss in the Fischer job. It hadn't been serious, after all. Arthur was handsome, she knew that. She would have to be blind not to notice that, and she was certainly not blind.

"What's her problem?" Arthur asked, following her line of sight.

"I guess they don't like loud noises," she replied. It sounded lame to her, but it was a reasonable enough assumption that Arthur accepted it.

They left and walked around the neighborhood, the rain from earlier now merely a fine mist. They wandered aimlessly, talking about random things until they came to a posh restaurant not far from the townhouse. "Might as well go for an early dinner," Arthur commented, gesturing toward the restaurant.

Ariadne had a little more wine with her meal than she usually did, which went straight to her head. Arthur matched her number of glasses, but he wasn't nearly as tipsy. He helped her stay steady as they walked back to the townhouse. She stumbled across the threshold, falling across Arthur. He caught her easily and maneuvered her into the living room. She collapsed onto the couch, giggling as Arthur sat beside her. "Mmm," she hummed happily. "Much better than a workout. Awesome idea."

Arthur laughed. "Glad to help."

She leaned against him and burrowed into his warmth when he put an arm around her shoulders. "That chick was totally checking you out."

"What? What chick?"

"A while ago," Ariadne said vaguely. "'Cause you're hot."

Arthur laughed at her again. "Am I now?"

"Yup. But you _have_ to know that, right? Those suits are just yummy." Ariadne pressed her face against his chest. "And you smell good, too."

He laughed a little more. "Good to know. So no more teasing about the shower times, hm?"

Ariadne laughed. "Oh, I don't tease you _much."_

"Of course you do!"

"Do not!" Ariadne protested, moving to tickle him.

Arthur twisted away from her questing hands, nearly falling off the couch. Ariadne fell across his lap, laughing. "This isn't funny!"

She kept laughing. "Sure it is!"

Somehow she managed to pull him with her when she fell off the couch. Arthur landed on top of her, the full length of his body pressed over hers. It might have been the wine, but instead of feeling awkward or embarrassed, Ariadne grinned up at him. He felt good pressed up against her, and she did an experimental little shimmy. Ooh, but that felt good, too.

Her hands went to his waist and then ran up his sides. He twitched away from her hands, making Ariadne laugh out loud. "You _are_ ticklish!"

Despite his protests, Arthur laughed and writhed, pitching himself backward away from her. "Stop it," he said, holding his hands out. "Or else I'm tickling you back, Ariadne!"

"Go ahead," she taunted, lunging forward and nearly pitching herself face first into his abdomen. "I'm winning."

They wound up tickling each other relentlessly, and after a while Ariadne gave up and simply wrapped her arms around Arthur. It felt good, and she simply snuggled up against him. "So... Does this mean you give up?" he asked.

His arms were around him and this felt even better. "You can think so if you like," Ariadne said with a laugh that turned into a yawn. "I'm not conceding defeat. I'm just falling asleep on you." His heartbeat was steady and lulling beneath her ear. "You're comfy."

"I am?" he asked, and there was something in his voice she couldn't interpret.

"Mmm-hmm. S'okay with you?" she asked. She would have raised her head, but she was yawning again.

"Yeah," Arthur said after a moment. His arms were tight around her. "Yeah, it's okay."

Smiling happily, Ariadne closed her eyes and stopped fighting sleep.

Some hours later, Ariadne woke abruptly. For a split second, Ariadne was unsure what had happened and where she was. She was in someone's arms and they weren't Keith's. If anything, they felt even better, and she burrowed in closer. She heard Arthur's amused chuckle and then sleepily looked up. Arthur was sprawled on the floor beneath her, one arm propping his head up so he could watch her as she slept on his chest. "You're kind of a restless sleeper," he said, lips curling into a smile.

"I am?"

"You are," he nodded. "I think I got a few hours of sleep before your elbows found my ribs."

Ariadne winced in sympathy. "Sorry about that."

"Better than a knee to the groin," he pointed out reasonably, making her laugh. "Come on. You need sleep in a real bed."

"I'm not sleepy," Ariadne protested even as her mouth opened into a huge yawn.

Arthur laughed and helped her get to her feet. He dragged her up the stairs after him and then brought her to her room. "Neither of us have plans today. Just sleep in, okay?"

It was such a reasonable suggestion that Ariadne didn't protest it. She peeled off her clothes until she was down to her underwear. Though Arthur blinked in surprise, he didn't say anything as he tucked her into bed. "Good night, Ariadne."

"G'night, Arthur," Ariadne said, a soft smile on her face. She was asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.

***

Neither really talked about how dinner and the resultant drunken nap had gone. Neither made a big deal about it and went about their usual routines. Arthur got an e-mail regarding a possible job in Hong Kong, which made Ariadne excited. She leaned over his shoulder to look at the message, grinning. "I've never been to Hong Kong. Can we go?"

"They already have an architect," Arthur pointed out with a smile, half turning toward her.

She turned toward him, still smiling. Suddenly she was hyperaware of how close they were to each other, that her small breasts were pressed into the line of his shoulders and mere inches separated their mouths. Flushing slightly, she backed up a bit. "Sorry, I didn't mean to presume..."

"You can still come with me," he said, shrugging. He didn't appear to be discomfited by her proximity at all. "It would just be a vacation for you, not a job."

"I'd like that." She leaned back over him and looked at the message. "Do you have a place near there, or would we get a hotel room?"

"One each, I would think," Arthur replied with a careless shrug. Ariadne blinked at the correction; she hadn't realized that she had mentioned one room. "I'll book a ticket for you once I'm ready to move on this one. It will be a bit of a hassle getting some background information, I think. This is Eames we're talking about, after all."

"It is?" she asked, startled, reaching over to grab the mouse. She put her hand over his and moved his hand to scroll down to the closing. "That's not his name."

"It is in certain areas," Arthur replied in amusement. "He's not always Eames."

"But you're always Arthur."

"I generally take care of my identity a little bit better than he does."

Ariadne snickered and moved away from the computer. She immediately missed his warmth and presence, so she simply leaned against the side of his desk. "Is it very complicated?"

"You measure everything by the Fischer job at this point," he told her in an amused tone. "That was completely out of the ordinary. Two levels are the most complicated it gets, and usually things don't have to go that far."

"Too bad. Maybe the architect he has sucks and I'll have to design something after all."

He laughed at her playful tone and waved her off so he could start messaging his contacts about this particular job. It was Eames, after all. This would be a job with an expensive payout, but he didn't always do the background checks. He also never did them as closely as Arthur liked them. Then again, few people did.

Arthur laughed to himself when he heard Ariadne signing along to Billie Holiday in the kitchen. She was probably working on sketches of random things, just to keep her skills in paradoxical architecture sharp. Maybe he could convince Eames to drop the architect he had anyway. He knew that Eames liked working with her, and Arthur did as well. Smiling to himself, he put on some headphones to drown out Ariadne's off key singing and got to work.

***

"You look positively smashing," Eames said appreciatively as Ariadne leaned in to give him a hug. "You light up a room like no other." He seemed especially delighted at Arthur's glower in his direction, though Ariadne missed it when he spun her about in a circle to make her laugh and cling to his shoulders for balance.

"You could've called or come to visit at any time, you know," Ariadne said once she was returned to the ground.

"Oh? Where did you wind up settling, then?" he asked, interested. Eames' blue eyes wandered from Ariadne's smiling face to Arthur's suddenly impassive one.

"I'm in London, staying in Kensington," Ariadne told him guilelessly. Eames took her arm in a gallant gesture, making her smile fondly at him. "I still haven't found a place as comfortable or as safe, so I'm still there."

Eames' grin widened and he shot Arthur an assessing glance. "Are you now?"

"I thought we were going to discuss the job, Mr. Eames?" Arthur asked in arch tones.

"Months later and you're still roommates? Or is it anything more?" he asked, innuendo in his tone.

Ariadne rolled her eyes and shook her head at him. "Oh, come on," she began as Arthur's jaw tightened fractionally. "You have such a filthy mind."

"Yes, of course," Eames replied with a nod. "Makes the world that much more interesting, it does. I still say yours isn't dirty enough, my dear. But in any case... Arthur is chomping at the bit to discuss this job. Unfortunately it already came with an architect, so you'll be a tourist in this fine city. I'm sure I could scrounge up someone to play tour guide for you, if you like."

She dug around in her messenger bag and lifted out a Frommer's. "I came prepared."

Eames snickered and shook his head. "Oh, you've very much become like our Arthur, haven't you?" Ariadne shrugged, smiling and obviously not seeing the harm in the statement. "Well, then. You can go sight seeing to your heart's content, and Arthur and I will talk shop. We may be a while, so don't wait on meals."

"I'll call you when we're close to being done," Arthur assured her quickly.

"Sure," Ariadne said with a smile, reaching out to touch his arm affectionately. "Maybe we can have dinner." There was a lovely pink flush across her cheeks, and then she waved at the two men. "Behave as best as you can, all right? I wouldn't want to have to figure out how to bail you out of a foreign prison."

Arthur smirked. "That's assuming we'd get caught."

Eames merely laughed at the byplay. "Too right. We're more than good enough at what we do, darling."

After they waved goodbye and Ariadne headed out to do her sightseeing, Eames sat down on one of the chairs in the empty warehouse. "Well. That was _interesting."_

Arthur glowered at Eames. "I have preliminary information regarding the subject..."

"I don't mean the _job,_ Arthur," Eames said, leaning back and throwing his arm across the edge of the chair. He let his lips curl into a knowing and amused smile. "You can't let her go, can you?"

"I don't know what you mean, Eames."

"Please don't tell me that no one has ever given you the birds and bees speech?" Eames asked, eyebrow arched in a subtle taunt.

Arthur refused to acknowledge the comment, and he merely reached for his own messenger bag, taking it off. He had given Ariadne one of his older ones to hold her guide book, some sketch pads and her camera. She knew enough about foreign travel to keep money and ID in a pouch under her clothes. She would be upset if the bag was stolen, but it wouldn't leave her stranded in a foreign country. Arthur removed one of his Moleskines and a pen, then looked up at Eames. "Are we going to discuss this now? Or wait for your architect to arrive?"

"He'll be here tomorrow," Eames said with a dismissive wave. "We need to hammer out strategy first, anyway. That wouldn't be the most efficient use of his time."

All business, Arthur nodded and flipped open his book to the marked page. The marks were his own personal version of shorthand, illegible to anyone else looking at the page. A slip of paper fluttered out of it, and he couldn't stop the smile quirking his lips when he saw the sketch Ariadne had placed there. It was a little caricature of Arthur bending over his laptop, his headphones on and ignoring the bomb going off beside him.

"Utterly besotted, you poor blind bastard," Eames sighed, shaking his head.

Arthur's head snapped up and he put the drawing into the front of the book. "Shall we start?" he said, voice brisk and efficient as usual.

"Yes, I suppose we should. Then there's dinner with the delectable Ariadne."

The glare that Arthur shot his way was utterly worth it.

***

Dinner was lovely, and Ariadne underestimated the potency of the plum wine she had ordered with her meal. Eames managed to refrain from making jokes at her expense, which she appreciated enough to give him a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek. "If you're always this affectionate with friends, darling," he drawled, helping her walk to the hotel. "I can see why that last idiot was so concerned."

"But we're just friends. It was only work," she told him, brows knit in confusion.

"Stop needling her, Mr. Eames," Arthur intoned, taking her other arm. "C'mon, Ariadne. Let's get you up to your room."

"I've talked with Yusuf, you know," Ariadne said, apropos of nothing. "He's loving what he does, not being in the field. He hates that part, but he loves the rest of it. He said he was coming here, though. I think he wanted a change and to meet everyone again."

"It's a tricky job," Eames told her, getting into the hotel building. She was so tiny next to them, and he had an obvious fondness for her. "I thought it would be good to have his expertise with us."

"We'll go sightseeing," Ariadne declared with a smile. "I have my book and he's an awesome photographer. Did you know that?"

"No, I didn't," Arthur told her in grave tones.

"Well, he is. He's sent me pictures of Kenya. It's beautiful there. We should visit."

"Perhaps when Cobol's no longer as angry with me," Arthur replied evenly. "That's their backyard, and they have a long memory."

"Oh. Well, there are other places in the world to visit."

"Still need help, Arthur?" Eames asked as they got to the elevator. Ariadne was steadier on her feet here, but still obviously drunk. "Ariadne, I don't know why you insist on matching our number of wine glasses."

"I can match how many beers he drinks," Ariadne protested, slinging an arm around Arthur's shoulders.

"I think the wine hits you differently," Arthur replied. They entered the elevator, and he shot an irritated look at Eames. "You don't have to follow us up, you know. We can make it to the rooms all right."

"Just in case you need additional lock picking skills," Eames told him sweetly, stuffing his hands in his pockets and smiling.

"I didn't know you could pick locks," Ariadne told them. "Can you teach me?"

"Further corruption of our favorite architect?" Eames asked in playful tones. Ariadne laughed, though Arthur glowered at him. "Come now, it's a joke. Unless it isn't, of course."

"You can find your own way home, can't you?" Arthur intoned.

"You are entirely no fun, Arthur," Eames concluded. He did leave once Ariadne opened her hotel room door and entered it under her own power. He gave a thoughtful look to Arthur, who was opening the door to his own room next to hers.

"What?" Arthur asked irritably. "Out with it."

"You care for her," Eames declared.

"Of course I do. She's my friend."

"Arthur, you don't walk me home when _I'm_ drunk," he pointed out in an even tone.

"Even drunk, you can still take care of yourself. I've watched you kill someone when you could barely stand upright."

"Yes, well. It's the _thought_ that counts," Eames replied. "And you haven't kicked her out of your home yet. I'm surprised at you. I thought you valued your independence. She doesn't need looking after the way Cobb did."

"No, she doesn't," Arthur agreed. He didn't address the other statements at all. "We'll meet in the morning, usual time."

Eames nodded and left, the thoughtful look still on his face.

***

"I didn't know you and Arthur were that close," Yusuf remarked as he and Ariadne left the museum and looked for a restaurant for lunch. "You're staying with him, you said?"

"It was supposed to be temporary, but no other place seems to be working out right. And with this job for him and vacation for me, I'm obviously not looking. He hasn't said he wants to kick me out, so I can kind of take my time with it."

"Meaning you're not looking quite so hard," Yusuf pointed out.

Ariadne shrugged. "Maybe. Ooh. This one looks good."

They ducked into the restaurant and ordered their lunches. "You could always visit Mombasa," Yusuf said with a smile. "It's lovely, plenty of history and culture, museums, beaches, that sort of thing."

"I'd love to, thank you," Ariadne told him with a warm smile. "I think visiting the world would be a wonderful thing to do. I really should have done that more before, but I was so occupied with school. Now that it's done, I can afford to take my time and really see things."

"I have a number of favorite cities to visit. Paris is one of them, which is another reason why I agreed to actually go into the field when we met."

"Not to mention Cobb's share."

Yusuf merely grinned, eyes crinkling warmly. "It certainly didn't hurt, no. It takes a lot of money to bribe police and politicians, you know. My dreamers can only afford so much, and sometimes it's cruel to take their dreams from them."

They wound up talking about what it took to build such a large world within the dream for the ones that frequented the den in Mombasa, as well as how he had gotten into that line of work itself. It had been something of an accident, as he was working on his Ph.D. theses in pharmacology and biochemistry when he was recruited by the government, who had needed someone to synthesize the original formula of somnacin. Their initial batches led to myriad side effects, and he started to adjust the formula from the very beginning. "Of course that got people to talking. And then one thing led to another, and here we are," Yusuf said, shrugging in his usual understated kind of way. He smiled fondly at Ariadne. "Never underestimate the power of word of mouth."

Ariadne laughed. "Well, the concierge at my hotel was telling me about this art gallery that he thought would be good to visit. Care to see if his word was good after we finish lunch?" she asked.

"I would love to," Yusuf agreed with a smile. "I haven't had much time off for a vacation. This has been great so far."

Occasionally she would take random pictures on her phone that afternoon, sometimes sending one to Eames or Arthur. Or she sent a random text to Arthur that Yusuf noticed, which seemed to be some kind of in joke between the two of them. She smiled fondly as she put away her phone, then looked suspiciously at Yusuf's knowing grin. "What?"

"It's good to see you happy," Yusuf said diplomatically.

Her smile softened. "Yeah, I am. Feels weird, considering I'm something of a criminal now."

"Well, even criminals have fun, Ariadne," Yusuf said, tucking her hand into the crook of his arm. "Sometimes, I think they have even more fun than those on the correct side of the law." He grinned and steered her toward the shops. "Let's see how much trouble we can get into, hm?"

Ariadne laughed and let him lead the way.

***  
***


	3. Falling Into Place

If there was any danger during the job itself, Arthur and Eames deliberately didn't tell Ariadne or Yusuf about it. They left the two of them wandering through the city as tourists, snapping pictures and collecting souvenirs. They all met up for dinner afterward, Eames liberally buying rounds of drinks to go with dinner. Remembering Ariadne's penchant for trying to match the men in their rounds, he stuck with beer. "I see someone does learn about little details," Arthur commented archly.

"When it's worthwhile," Eames replied with an easy smile.

"Wouldn't you agree?" Yusuf asked Arthur pointedly, eyebrow raised.

"Of course I focus on the details," Arthur replied. "That's my role in the job."

"You're good at what you do," Ariadne added helpfully. She had the vague feeling that there was some byplay that she was missing.

"I do believe that sometimes you miss the bigger picture," Eames said. Yusuf nodded in agreement, eyes flicking from Arthur toward Ariadne. "It's seeing the forest for the trees as well as its foresty nature."

"You've been drinking too much," Arthur replied, leveling him with a bland expression.

"Doesn't mean I'm not right," Eames replied with a careless wave. "After all, I've been far more intoxicated and had to do far more serious things than simply carry on a conversation about what is or isn't happening between two of my very good friends."

"What's happening?" Ariadne asked, confused.

Yusuf patted her arm gently. "Just chalk it up to Eames being drunk and even more vague than usual. Or perhaps others that we know are being more obtuse than usual. Either way, you're fine. Leave them to their verbal games, yes?"

She shot him a dubious look but let it go. She was sure that she would be able to ask Arthur what the hell they were talking about later if she really cared to know. The rest of the conversation that evening went by without further vague allusions or innuendo, and Eames passed her the name and phone number of two extractors he thought were decent that might need an architect. Yusuf only knew of people local to Mombasa, since he generally didn't leave the area often. Ariadne was amenable to visiting at some point, and took that information as well.

As good as it was to see Eames and Yusuf again, Ariadne was glad to be on a plane with Arthur back to London. They had seats side by side on the plane, and she fell asleep with her hand on his arm. Arthur knew that he could have gone anywhere, and had other homes in other parts of the world. But he knew that Ariadne had pretty much set up shop in London as her home, and he didn't like the thought of her there alone. His townhouse was safe, and Kensington was a wonderfully upscale area so he knew that there was minimal danger of her living there. It was more that he was accustomed to being near her now. It was odd when he was away for work, not having her around to make sarcastic comments or drawings. He wasn't distracted to the point where he couldn't get the job done, but he had definitely noticed an increased sense of calm around himself when he had her nearby.

Arthur turned his head and took in the curve of her cheeks, of her eyelashes resting gently against her lower eyelids. Her hair wasn't as wild as it used to be, but there were still lost strands falling across her face. He brushed them aside, his fingertips gentle on her skin. "Rest well, Ariadne," he murmured, feeling something in his chest tighten at the thought that something might disturb her sleep.

It was a good thing Eames and Yusuf were headed to Mombasa. Arthur didn't want to imagine the ribbing he would receive from them.

Still, if he had to endure it, Ariadne would be worth it.

***

A few weeks after that particular job, Ariadne had cooked dinner and they brought their drinks to the living room to watch a movie. Ariadne put her milk down beside Arthur's juice then settled in beside him. It was a creepy supernatural thriller that she had heard about while meeting up with a new potential team that she would build for. Arthur had looked into the team for her, of course, and hadn't been able to find much to complain about. Sketching out potential designs kept her busy in the downtime, which kept her skills sharp. While it was nice to have some time off, she preferred being busy and would rather work.

Arthur popped the movie into the DVD player and took his usual place on the couch beside the table. Ariadne sat next to him, and Arthur put his arm around her shoulders. She snuggled in close as the movie began, as the lights were dim and it was dark. She leaned across him a few times to finish off her glass of milk, and held on to him tightly as the body count started rising. Arthur tightened his arm around her shoulders. "It's just a movie," he whispered at a lull in the tension.

She laughed, a tinge of nervousness in her tone. "I know, but... God, why did I want to see this? I _hate_ movies like this."

He simply held her close when she made a little squeak and jump at the next tense moment in the movie, and he rubbed her arm comfortingly. "Sh... I've got you." He kissed the top of her head and let her burrow even closer against his solid warmth.

As the tension in the movie got worse, Ariadne burrowed her face against Arthur's chest, unable to stand it. She cringed when she heard the screaming, and Arthur practically pulled her into his lap to comfort her. She buried her face into the corner of his neck, whispering "Tell me when it's over."

"Let me just stop it," Arthur told her, reaching for the remote. The room fell into total darkness once the movie stopped. "It's over."

Ariadne raised her head a little, intending to thank Arthur for not thinking that she was being an idiot. He was still turned to face her, and their mouths met.

Though both froze when their lips touched, neither of them could deny the electric tingle at the point of contact. They didn't move, not even to breathe, and Ariadne was the one to deepen the kiss after the space of a few heartbeats.

Arthur pulled her more firmly onto his lap and had one hand splayed across her back, the other tangled up in her hair. Ariadne had her arms around his shoulders as she straddled him. Instead of this feeling awkward and weird, it suddenly felt as if it was the only thing that made sense anymore. The living room was dark, which made their sense of touch that much more acute. The pressure of lips and hands against each other felt natural, as if this was the thing that they had been edging toward over the past several months.

When the kiss broke so that they could breathe, Ariadne touched her forehead to Arthur's. She could make out the gradations in darkness now, enough to know where he was. There was the slight shine of his open eyes as he looked at the shadowy shape that was her head in the darkness. He still had a hand at her back, his other having dropped from her hair to the nape of her neck. Neither spoke as she leaned in a little. She was moving slowly, so that he could turn away if he wanted to.

He didn't, and this kiss was just as startling and earthshaking as the others had been. Arthur was the first to pull at her top to touch bare skin, to continue along this same train of thought and sensation. Breathless, they wordlessly started peeling away clothes. Lips and mouths and hands were everywhere, as if there had never been any other way this could have ended. This was what everyone was grinning about, this was what they had seen when Arthur and Ariadne hadn't.

Romance novels tended to describe sex in flowery, glowing terms or play up the parts that were sexy to get the libido going. This wouldn't fit either style of description.

There was no discussion, no heady rush of lust and desperation that led to shedding of clothes and inhibitions. There was no worry about their friendship dying a screaming death or that it would be ruined in the morning. It was as if the prior months had already told them everything they needed to know about each other but this, and the sensation of skin on skin was at once overwhelming and perfect.

Ariadne woke the following morning in Arthur's bed and stretched languidly. She had no regrets, no recriminations, no doubts. She smiled at Arthur, who was watching her wake with a soft tilt to his lips. "Morning."

"Morning," he replied, lips curling into a full grin. There were even dimples in his cheeks at the sight of her sleepy satisfaction. "Breakfast?"

"Want me to make French toast?" she offered, smothering a yawn.

Arthur shot her a relieved smile. "I'll start the coffee pot and get the morning news on."

"Deal."

It was their usual morning routine, and the only difference now was the addition of appreciative glances over bare skin and a morning caress.

Ariadne remembered being worried the next morning after first sleeping with Keith, wondering how she would talk to him. They had stumbled around each other, awkwardly laughing it off and finally settling into a routine. She didn't have any of that with Arthur, and grabbing his discarded shirt to head downstairs was more of an afterthought than a necessity. She felt comfortable enough in her own skin, humming one of her favorite Nina Simone songs as she started the batter. Arthur pulled on a pair of sweatpants to putter around the kitchen with her, and they ate in comfortable companionship.

Funny how she never thought love could feel like this, too. She could give Arthur a goofy smile and he could return it, and she felt settled in a way that she hadn't felt in years. Without having to ask, she knew Arthur felt the same way.

***

"You look happier," Eames commented over lunch. Ariadne shrugged, not wanting to speak around a mouthful of salad. Eames leaned back in his chair, contemplating her. "So does Arthur, I think. He doesn't have that sour look about him."

"I don't think he looked all that sour before."

"Of course you wouldn't," he replied with a smile.

Ariadne rolled her eyes and speared the last cherry tomato in her house salad. "Are you trying to distract me from what that lousy excuse of an extractor said this morning?" she accused, waving the tomato in Eames' general direction. "Because if you are, it's not working."

Eames laughed and shook his head, which didn't alleviate her suspicions one bit. She had contacted the names that Eames had given her, and both had been busy at the time. They did file away her contact information, and one of them told her about Parker Weston, an extractor who was based out of Italy. "I don't know much about him, other than I heard he did a lot of work and has a lot of contacts," Eames' friend had told Ariadne. "That might at least be a good place to start until I have something to offer you."

Ariadne had thanked the extractor at the time, thinking it was a generous offer. Having met Weston, she was rethinking that. Weston was a complete idiot, and it was a wonder that he hadn't been caught by authorities yet. "I'm not going to get dragged into some kind of conspiracy theory and get caught by Interpol or some kind of police just because he doesn't understand the first thing about how to get to someone in dreams."

"That's not an entirely fair assessment, darling," Eames drawled.

"Don't tell me you think better of him because you're lovers."

"We aren't, weren't and won't ever be," Eames replied. "He looks the sort that has entirely no imagination in bed, and there isn't enough going for him for me to put up with boring." He grinned and reached for his water glass. "But just because he's boring and uninspired doesn't mean he doesn't get the job done. The man is tenacious. Just... Well, he makes Arthur look like a Jackson Pollock painting."

Ariadne snorted and nearly choked on her salad. "You just enjoy needling him."

"Well, yes," Eames admitted. "But that doesn't mean it's not true."

"I don't like Weston and I think he's an idiot."

"Most of the time in this field, you don't like who you work with. It's rare, what the lot of us had with the Fischer job. You can't recreate that every time you work on something."

"I suppose," Ariadne agreed. "But he's still an idiot," she declared, spearing more of her salad.

"He's not actually stupid. Just uninspired. To be fair, there really was a network of lookouts in Bulgaria looking for him. It's not just a story. He really did get caught up in some nasty business and got the blame pinned on him."

"And you know this because?" she prompted, looking at him pointedly.

"I may have sold some information at the time in Bulgaria." Eames grinned. "It takes a lot to stay afloat in the underground, Ariadne. Your Arthur makes it look so effortless, but it really isn't."

She rolled her eyes at him and didn't remark on the _your Arthur_ bit. She liked that phrase, to be perfectly honest, and neither of them were particularly opposed to it.

"I'm surprised you're not complaining about my verbiage," Eames told her when she didn't reply. "Usually you're quick to protest that you're just friends."

"Would it stop you from making fun if I did?"

"Well, no," he admitted with a grudging smile. "Don't tell me you've given up."

"I'm eating, Eames. That's more important than verbal sparring," Ariadne teased.

Eames laughed, just as she hoped he would. "Just so." He completed his lunch and waited until she finished hers. "So are you going to work with Weston?"

"I probably should," she sighed. "Other than his being an incurable idiot, I guess it won't be so bad if you think it'll be all right..."

"What did Arthur say about it?"

"That I could do worse."

"That's a very Arthur thing to say."

"So what else should I know about him?"

Eames thought about it for a moment, seriously considering her question. "You'll be bored and you'll get your work done quickly. I don't think you'll have to worry about him being an idiot as far as you're concerned, to be honest. Do you want me to find out who his current associates are, just in case?"

Ariadne waved off his concern. "Nah. I'm sure Arthur is doing that already." She grinned at Eames' lofted eyebrow. "Just because I could do worse doesn't mean he is going to leave anything to chance, you know."

"He's besotted, the poor man," Eames commented, watching her reaction closely.

But she shrugged rather than looked appalled, which he found fascinating. "As long as he's happy, you should leave it alone."

"And are you, darling?" he asked, concern in his tone.

She gave him a soft and endearing smile. "Yes, I am. I don't think it can get better than this."

Of course, she was wrong on that count, too.

The job with Weston, as Eames predicted, had gone very well and she was done long before he did the actual extraction. Ariadne then heard from Eames' other friend, and was offered a job in Mombasa. She jumped at the opportunity to visit Eames and Yusuf on their home turf, and they offered to show her the sights in between her duties on that job. Arthur booked her flight and hotel room, though he wasn't going to be able to fly with her. "I'm looking into something," he said with the air of a man on a hunt. She recognized it as the halfway vague statements he made when working on a job, so she kissed his forehead and promised to get him a souvenir that would look good in the house.

Arthur surprised her by showing up in Mombasa and making reservations for dinner at La Marina, a very posh and romantic restaurant there. As soon as Eames and Yusuf heard the name of the restaurant, they both grinned like loons. "I thought so," Yusuf said with an approving nod in Arthur's direction.

"I thought you were looking into something," Ariadne told him as he whisked her out of Yusuf's shop and into a waiting taxi. "And isn't it dangerous for you to be here?"

"I have a different alias for this part of the world," Arthur told her reasonably. "And the danger for me has long since died down, so it was safe enough to visit." He grinned once they pulled up in front of La Marina. "Even if it wasn't, you're worth risking it all for."

Ariadne felt more than a little overwhelmed by the statement. They've never really been overly demonstrative in front of others, didn't have cutesy nicknames for each other and didn't go around calling each other sweetheart or honey. While she certainly felt the same way about Arthur, it never occurred to her before to say something out loud.

"Arthur," she began, closing her hand over his. "I..."

He kissed her, cutting off what she was about to say. "We're here."

It was a little frustrating to not be able to say anything now that she wanted to, but there was something like anticipation humming in Arthur that made him seem almost like an overgrown puppy trying to please its owners. Of course, comparing Arthur to a puppy normally was ridiculous, given how lethal and composed he could be. Right now, she couldn't see past the grin he kept giving her, the one that revealed the crinkles by his eyes and his dimples. He was inordinately pleased with himself, and she had a feeling that he was arranging all of this to impress her.

Of course, seeing the inside of La Marina made her suitably impressed.

The two of them were in a corner of the restaurant, away from most observers. Both checked the restaurant unobtrusively for exits and potential threats; Ariadne hadn't lived this long with the point man without picking up a few habits. Drinks were waiting on the table already, and she shot Arthur a questioning look. He took an experimental sip of the champagne, then smiled at her. "Exactly what I'd arranged."

"Arthur, what is this all about?"

"I was looking into things," Arthur began slowly, leaning forward slightly. Her eyes were locked to his, and she was surprised by the intensity of his gaze. "Not all of it is very glamorous, you understand. I had to redraft a will, add in a beneficiary for my life insurance policies and make changes to the home owner's insurance policy on the townhouse."

Ariadne wasn't following his line of thought. "Why would you need to do that?"

Arthur grasped her hand in one of his, the other was lifting a box into view. "Having you with me has been amazing. That last job you did... I knew you were coming back, that it was just temporary, but I couldn't shake the feeling that I was missing something. I'm not the same if you're not with me."

Blinking in surprise, Ariadne looked from Arthur to the box, which was clearly a ring box. It all clicked into place suddenly, her mouth falling open in surprise. Yet at the same time, she wasn't surprised at all.

"Ariadne, will you marry me?" Arthur asked. He opened the box, revealing the ring inside. It was a one karat diamond in an elaborate setting that looked almost like etched stairs and scrollwork.

Dimly, she was aware that she was still gaping at him and she needed to say something. "Yes," she murmured, her voice coming out as a feeble croak. "Yes," she repeated, her voice stronger and sounding more like her own. She leaned forward to throw her arms around him and press kisses across his cheeks. "Yes, yes, yes."

Arthur laughed, that soft delighted sound that she didn't think many people heard. He pulled back enough to slide the ring onto her finger. It was a perfect fit, of course, and the ring looked almost dazzling on her slender finger. He kissed her, holding her close so that the kiss was a little more passionate than propriety would allow in such a public place.

Dinner was lovely, though Ariadne didn't remember what she had ordered or what it had even tasted like. Something with seafood, given the menu, but she was mostly awed by the flash of light against the diamond, by the unfamiliar sensation of a ring on the third finger of her left hand, by the heady knowledge that this was really happening. She had her totem in her purse, but she didn't need to check it. She knew this wasn't any kind of dream. This was real, this was happening, and this was better than she had ever expected it would be.

Yusuf laughed as soon as he saw her expression once they all met up at his flat afterward. It wasn't an unkind laugh, more like the laughter of someone who had been in on a hilarious joke and was seeing the reaction of others. He even snapped a picture of her on his phone and sent it to Eames, who was currently working and had missed Arthur's arrival. "I see he finally said something to you," Yusuf said, pouring drinks. "Congratulations to you both."

"Did you know?" Ariadne asked, stunned.

"That he loved you? Plain to see for anyone that has known him long. Or perhaps not so long, since I haven't known him nearly as long as Eames." Yusuf passed both of them drinks and picked up his own. He gave them both a pleased grin. "Would you have the ceremony and reception here? I know plenty of people that could handle security and we'll get everything done in grand style."

Ariadne blinked as Arthur shrugged. "It's as good a place as any. Unless you'd like to do something flashy in London so your ex can find out about it."

She laughed, startled and amused. She couldn't even remember the last time she had thought about Keith, really. "I don't care. He doesn't matter."

Pulling her up against him, Arthur grinned. "Well, good. I wouldn't want you thinking of someone else when we get married."

Married. The sound of that was thrilling and surreal at once, and Ariadne found herself grinning at him like a loon, light sparkling off of her ring out of the corner of her eye. _Married._ To Arthur. To someone she had never realized she couldn't live without.

Amazing what could happen in the space of a year.

"You're invited, of course," Ariadne told Yusuf with that delighted grin on her face. She looked at Arthur as the reality of that sank in. "Would we be able to protect Cobb and the kids? We have to invite them. If not for them, we never would have met."

Arthur looked to Yusuf, who shrugged. "If he shows more caution during this upcoming visit, I don't see why not," the chemist told them. "From what I understand, he came into the country with his own name and face, using the main airport. Cobol has agents there, so he was easy to track down. I'm sure we can work something out before he arrives."

"There's a lot to decide," Arthur told her, lips quirked into a smile. "Lots of details to arrange."

Ariadne laughed. "Good thing I have you, then. It'll get worked out in no time."

Yusuf gave them a little time to cuddle and kiss, and Ariadne gave Arthur her goofy grin. "Married," she said, not caring that she probably sounded high or addled in some way. "We're going to get married."

"That's the point of getting engaged, yes," Arthur teased in his dry voice.

She laughed and kissed him again. She couldn't even track when this had happened, when he had grown so important to her. Somehow she didn't think Arthur would be able to do that either. It had been gradual, more like growing into each other than falling into a chasm they couldn't escape. If she had to describe it, this kind of love was more of a warm and comfortable kind of presence, more like the safety of a hug from a trusted friend. It wasn't some kind of dizzying intense feeling, which Ariadne actually didn't trust anyway.

Ariadne grinned. "I love you, Arthur. More than I could ever say."

Arthur pulled her close and kissed her softly. "I love you, too."

 

The End


End file.
